Theosophical Society,
NIGHTMARE
TALES
A
Compilation of Stories
By
H P Blavatsky
H P Blavatsky
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An Unsolved Murder
By
H. P. Blavatsky
The
circumstances attending the sudden death of M. Delessert, inspector of the
Police
de Surete, seem to have made such an impression upon the Parisian
authorities
that they were recorded in unusual detail. Omitting all particulars
except
what are necessary to explain matters, we produce here the undoubtedly
strange
history.
In
the fall of 1861 there came to Paris a man who called himself Vic de Lassa,
and
was so inscribed upon his passports. He came from
He
was a small man, aged thirty-five, with pale and mysterious face, long blonde
hair,
a vague, wandering blue eye, and a mouth of singular firmness. He dressed
carelessly
and unaffectedly, and spoke and talked without much empressement.
His
companion, presumably his wife, on the other hand, ten years younger than
himself,
was a strikingly beautiful woman, of that dark, rich, velvety,
luscious,
pure Hungarian type which is so nigh akin to the gipsy blood. At the
theatres,
on the Bois, at the cafes, on the boulevards, and everywhere that idle
a
sensation.
They
lodged in luxurious apartments on the Rue Richelieu, frequented the best
places,
received good company, entertained handsomely, and acted in every way as if
possessed of considerable wealth. Lassa had always a good balance chez
Schneider, Ruter et Cie, the Austrian bankers in Rue Rivoli, and wore diamonds
of conspicuous lustre.
How
did it happen then, that the Prefect of Police saw fit to suspect Monsieur
and
Madame de Lassa, and detailed Paul Delessert, one of the most ruse
inspectors
of the force, to "pipe" him? The fact is, the insignificant man with
the
splendid wife was a very mysterious personage, and it is the habit of the
police
to imagine that mystery always hides either the conspirator, the
adventurer,
or the charlatan. The conclusion to which the Prefect had come in
regard
to M. de Lassa was that he was an adventurer and charlatan too. Certainly
a
successful one, then, for he was singularly unobtrusive and had in no way
trumpeted
the wonders which it was his mission to perform, yet in a few weeks
after
he had established himself in
and
the number of persons who paid the fee of 100 francs for a single peep into
his
magic crystal, and a single message by his spiritual telegraph, was really
astonishing.
The secret of this was that M. de Lassa was a conjurer and
deceiver,
whose pretensions were omniscient and whose predictions always came true.
Delessert
did not find it very difficult to get an introduction and admission to
De
Lassa's salon. The receptions occurred every other day -- two hours in the
forenoon,
three hours in the evening. It was evening when Inspector Delessert
called
in his assumed character of M. Flabry, virtuoso in jewels and a convert
to
Spiritualism. He found the handsome parlours brilliantly lighted, and a
charming
assemblage gathered of well-pleased guests, who did not at all seem to
have
come to learn their fortunes or fates, while contributing to the income of
their
host, but rather to be there out of complaisance to his virtues and gifts.
Mme.
de Lassa performed upon the piano or conversed from group to group in a way
that seemed to be delightful, while M. de Lassa walked about or sat in his
insignificant,
unconcerned way, saying a word now and then, but seeming to shun everything
that was conspicuous. Servants handed about refreshments, ices, cordials,
wines, etc., and Delessert could have fancied himself to have dropped in upon a
quite modest evening entertainment, altogether en regle, but for one or two
noticeable circumstances which his observant eyes quickly took in.
Except
when their host or hostess was within hearing the guests conversed
together
in low tones, rather mysteriously, and with not quite so much laughter
as
is usual on such occasions. At intervals a very tall and dignified footman
would
come to a guest, and, with a profound bow, present him a card on a silver
salver. The guest would then go out, preceded by the solemn servant, but when
he or she returned to the salon -- some did not return at all -- they
invariably wore a dazed or puzzled look, were confused, astonished, frightened,
or amused.
All
this was so unmistakably genuine, and De Lassa and his wife seemed so
unconcerned
amidst it all, not to say distinct from it all, that Delessert could
not
avoid being forcibly struck and considerably puzzled.
Two
or three little incidents, which came under Delessert's own immediate
observation,
will suffice to make plain the character of the impressions made
upon
those present. A couple of gentlemen, both young, both of good social
condition,
and evidently very intimate friends, were conversing together and
tutoying
one another at a great rate, when the dignified footman summoned
Alphonse.
He laughed gaily, "Tarry a moment, cher Auguste," said he, "and
thou shalt know all the particulars of this wonderful fortune!" "Eh
bien!" A minute had scarcely elapsed when Alphonse returned to the salon.
His face was white and bore an appearance of concentrated rage that was
frightful to witness.
He
came straight to Auguste, his eyes flashing, and bending his face toward his
friend, who changed colour and recoiled, he hissed out "Monsieur Lefebure,
vous etes un lache!" "Very well, Monsieur Meunier," responded
Auguste, in the same low tone,
"tomorrow
morning at
traitor!"
"A la mort!" rejoined Alphonse, walking off. "Cela va sans
dire!"
muttered
Auguste, going towards the hat-room.
A
diplomatist of distinction, representative at
an
elderly gentleman of superb aplomb and most commanding appearance, was
summoned
to the oracle by the bowing footman. After being absent about five
minutes
he returned, and immediately made his way through the press to M. de
Lassa,
who was standing not far from the fireplace, with his hands in his
pockets
and a look of utmost indifference upon his face.
Delessert
standing near, watched the interview with eager interest.
"I
am exceedingly sorry," said General Von --, "to have to absent myself
so soon from your interesting salon, M. de Lassa, but the result of my seance
convinces me that my dispatches have been tampered with." "I am
sorry," responded M. de Lassa, with an air of languid but courteous
interest; "I hope you may be able to discover which of your servants has
been unfaithful." "I am going to do that now," said the General,
adding, in significant tones, "I shall see that both he and his
accomplices do not escape severe punishment." "That is the only course
to pursue, Monsieur le Comte." The ambassador stared, bowed, and took his
leave with a bewilderment in his face that was beyond the power of his tact to
control.
In
the course of the evening M. de Lassa went carelessly to the piano, and,
after
some indifferent vague preluding, played a remarkably effective piece of
music,
in which the turbulent life and buoyancy of bacchanalian strains melted
gently,
almost imperceptibly away, into a sobbing wail of regret, and languor,
and
weariness, and despair. It was beautifully rendered, and made a great
impression
upon the guests, one of whom, a lady, cried, "How lovely, how sad!
Did
you compose that yourself, M. de Lassa?" He looked towards her absently
for an instant, then replied: "I? Oh, no! That is merely a reminiscence,
madame."
"Do
you know who did compose it, M. de Lassa?" enquired a virtuoso present.
"I believe it was originally written by Ptolemy Auletes, the father of
Cleopatra,"
said
M. de Lassa, in his indifferent musing way; "but not in its present form.
It
has been twice re-written to my knowledge; still, the air is substantially
the
same." "From whom did you get it, M. de Lassa, if I may ask?"
persisted the
gentleman.
"Certainly, certainly! The last time I heard it played was by
Sebastian
Bach; but that was Palestrina's -- the present -- version. I think I
prefer
that of Guido of Arezzo -- it is ruder, but has more force. I got the air
from
Guido himself." "You -- from -- Guido!" cried the astonished
gentleman.
"Yes,
monsieur," answered De Lassa, rising from the piano with his usual
indifferent
air. "Mon Dieu cried the virtuoso, putting his hand to his head
after
the manner of Mr. Twemlow, "Mon Dieu! that was in Anno Domini 1022."
"A little later than that -- July, 1031, if I remember rightly,"
courteously
corrected
M. de Lassa.
At
this moment the tall footman bowed before M. Delessert, and presented the
salver
containing the card. Delessert took it and read: "On vous accorde
trente-cing
secondes, M. Flabry, tout au plus!" Delessert followed; the footman
opened
the door of another room and bowed again, signifying that Delessert was
to
enter. "Ask no questions," he said briefly; "Sidi is mute."
Delessert entered
the
room and the door closed behind him. It was a small room, with a strong
smell
of frankincense pervading it; the walls were covered completely with red
hangings
that concealed the windows, and the floor was felted with a thick
carpet.
Opposite the door, at the upper end of the room near the ceiling was the
face
of a large clock, under it, each lighted by tall wax candles, were two
small
tables, containing, the one an apparatus very like the common registering
telegraph
instrument, the other a crystal globe about twenty inches in diameter,
set
upon an exquisitely wrought tripod of gold and bronze intermingled. By the
side
of the door stood a man jet black in colour, wearing a white turban and
burnous,
and having a sort of wand of silver in one hand. With the other he took
Delessert
by the right arm above the elbow, and led him quickly up the room. He
pointed
to the clock, and it struck an alarum; he pointed to the crystal.
Delessert
bent over, looked into it, and saw -- a facsimile of his own
sleeping-room,
everything photographed exactly. Sidi did not give him time to
exclaim,
but still holding him by the arm, took him to the other table. The
telegraph-like
instrument began to click-click. Sidi opened the drawer, drew out
a
slip of paper, crammed it into Delessert's hand, and pointed to the clock,
which
struck again, The thirty-five seconds were expired. Sidi, still retaining
hold
of Delessert's arm, pointed to the door and led him towards it. The door
opened,
Sidi pushed him out, the door closed, the tall footman stood there
bowing
-- the interview with the oracle is over. Delessert glanced at the piece
of
paper in his hand. It was a printed scrap, capital letters, and read simply:
"To
M. Paul Delessert: The policeman is always welcome, the spy is always in
danger!"
Delessert
was dumbfounded a moment to find his disguise detected, but the words of the
tall footman, "This way if you please, M. Flabry," brought him to his
senses. Setting his lips, he returned to the salon, and without delay sought M.
de
Lassa. "Do you know the contents of this?" asked he, showing the
message. "I know everything, M. Delessert," answered De Lassa, in his
careless way."
Then
perhaps you are aware that I mean to expose a charlatan, and unmask a
hypocrite, or perish in the attempt?" said Delessert. "Cela m'est
egal, monsieur," replied De Lassa. "You accept my challenge
then?" "Oh! it is a defiance, then?" replied De Lassa, letting
his eye rest a moment upon Delessert, "mais oui, je 1'accepte! And
thereupon Delessert departed.
Delessert
now set to work aided by all the forces the Prefect of Police could
bring
to bear, to detect and expose this consummate sorcerer, who the ruder
processes
of our ancestors would easily have disposed of -- by combustion.
Persistent
enquiry satisfied Delessert that the man was neither a Hungarian nor
was
named De Lassa; that no matter how far back his power of
"reminiscence"
might
extend, in his present and immediate form he had been born in this
unregenerate
world in the toy-making city of
boyhood
for his great turn for ingenious manufactures, but was very wild, and a
mauvais
sujet. In his sixteenth year he escaped to
himself
to a maker of watches and instruments. Here he had been seen by the
celebrated
Robert Houdin, the prestidigitateur. Houdin recognizing the lad's
talents,
and being himself a maker of ingenious automata, had taken him off to
public
performances of his amusing and curious diablerie. After staying with
Houdin
some years, Pflock Haslich (which was De Lassa's right name) had gone
East
in the suite of a Turkish Pasha, and after many years' roving, in lands
where
he could not be traced under a cloud of pseudonyms, had finally turned up in
Delessert
next turned his attention to Mme. de Lassa. It was more difficult to
get
a clue by means of which to know her past life; but it was necessary in
order
to understand enough about Haslich. At last, through an accident, it
became
probable that Mme. Aimee was identical with a certain Mme. Schlaff, who had
been rather conspicuous among the demi-monde of Buda. Delessert posted off to
that ancient city, and thence went into the wilds of
On
his return, as soon as he reached the telegraph and civilization, he
telegraphed
the Prefect from Kardszag: "Don't lose sight of my man, nor let him
leave
It
happened that on the day of Delessert's return to
absent,
being with the Emperor at
just
twenty-four hours after the announcement of Delessert's death. That
happened,
as near as could be gathered, in this wise: The night after
Delessert's
return he was present at De Lassa's salon with a ticket of
admittance
to a seance. He was very completely disguised as a decrepit old man,
and
fancied that it was impossible for any one to detect him. Nevertheless, when
he
was taken into the room, and looked into the crystal, he was utterly
horror-stricken
to see there a picture of himself, lying face down and senseless
upon
the side-walk of a street; and the message he received read thus: "What
you have seen will be, Delessert, in three days. Prepare!" The detective,
unspeakably
shocked, retired from the house at once and sought his own lodgings.
In
the morning he came to the office in a state of extreme dejection. He was
completely
unnerved. In relating to a brother inspector what had occurred, he
said
"That man can do what he promises, I am doomed!"
He
said that he thought he could make a complete case out against Haslich alias
De
Lassa, but could not do so without seeing the Prefect and getting
instructions.
He would tell nothing in regard to his discoveries in Buda and in
"Oh!
if M. le Prefect were only here!" He was told to go to the Prefect at
He
time and again averred his conviction that he was a doomed man, and showed
himself both vacillating and irresolute in his conduct, and extremely nervous.
He was told that he was perfectly safe, since De Lassa and all his household
were under constant surveillance; to which he replied, "You do not know
the man." An inspector was detailed to accompany Delessert, never to lose
sight of him night and day, and guard him carefully; and proper precautions
were taken in regard to his food and drink, while the guards watching De Lassa
were doubled.
On
the morning of the third day, Delessert, who had been staying chiefly
indoors,
avowed his determination to go at once and telegraph to M. le Prefect
to
return immediately. With this intention he and his brother officer started
out.
Just as they got to the corner of the Rue de Lanery and the Boulevard,
Delessert
stopped suddenly and put his hand to his forehead.
"My
God!" he cried, "the crystal! the picture!" and fell prone upon
his face,
insensible.
He was taken at once to a hospital, but only lingered a few hours,
never
regaining his consciousness. Under express instruction from the
authorities,
a most careful, minute, and thorough autopsy was made of
Delessert's
body by several distinguished surgeons, whose unanimous opinion was, that the
cause of his death was apoplexy, due to fatigue and nervous excitement.
As
soon as Delessert was sent to the hospital, his brother inspector hurried to
the
Central Office, and De Lassa, together with his wife and everyone connected
with
the establishment, were at once arrested. De Lassa smiled contemptuously as
they took him away. "I knew you were coming; I prepared for it; you will
be glad to release me again."
It
was quite true that De Lassa had prepared for them. When the house was
searched
it was found that every paper had been burned, the crystal globe was
destroyed,
and in the room of the seances was a great heap of delicate machinery broken
into indistinguishable bits. "That cost me 200,000 francs," said De
Lassa, pointing to the pile, "but it has been a good investment." The
walls and floors were ripped out in several places, and the damage to the
property was considerable. In prison neither De Lassa nor his associates made
any revelations.
The
notion that they had something to do with Delessert's death was quickly dispelled,
in a legal point of view, and all the party but De Lassa were released. He was
still detained in prison, upon one pretext, or another, when one morning he was
found hanging by a silk sash to the cornice of the room where he was confined
-- dead. The night before, it was afterwards discovered, Madame
de
Lassa had eloped with a tall footman, taking the Nubian Sidi with them. De
Lassa's
secrets died with him.
--------
"It
is an interesting story, that article of yours in to-day's Scientist. But is
it
a record of facts, or a tissue of the imagination? If true, why not state the
source
of it, in other words, specify your authority for it."
The
above is not signed, but we would take the opportunity to say that the
story,
"An Unsolved Mystery," was published because we considered the main
points
of the narrative -- the prophecies, and the singular death of the officer
--
to be psychic phenomena, that have been, and can be, again produced. Why
quote
"authorities"? The Scriptures tell us of the death of Ananias, under
the
stern
rebuke from Peter; here we have a phenomenon of a similar nature. Ananias is
supposed to have suffered instant death from fear. Few can realize this power
governed by spiritual laws, but those who have trod the boundary line and know
some few of the things that can be done, will see no great mystery in this, nor
in the story published last week. We are not speaking in mystical tones.
Ask
the powerful mesmerist if there is danger that the subject may pass out of his
control? -- if he could will the spirit out, never to return? It is capable of
demonstration
that the mesmerist can act on a subject at a distance of many
miles;
and it is no less certain that, the majority of mesmerists know little or
nothing
of the laws that govern their powers.
It
may be a pleasant dream to attempt to conceive of the beauties of the
spirit-world;
but the time can be spent more profitably in a study of the spirit
itself,
and it is not necessary that the subject for study should be in the
spirit-world.
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